


Cherry Ripe

by Murderershair (HannaM)



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 23:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannaM/pseuds/Murderershair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know you're my favorite, right, Em?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Ripe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompts dream, favorite, reluctance

"Try not to stare, Em." Ali lounges on the bed in her pale pink bikini, everything in her body language daring Emily to disobey. It's like a cruel private joke between the two of them-- Spencer scoffs, too busy trying to find a way to puncture Alison's ego to register the comment, while Hanna squirms in her seat, probably thinking that she wished she looked that good in a swimsuit. Aria doesn't say a word. Maybe she knows. 

The thought gives Emily a sick feeling at the bottom of her stomach. She feels like such a _pervert_ when she looks at Ali, especially when Alison catches her at it. 

When they all go to sleep, Emily lies awake, staring at the ceiling. She's seen Ali's body so many times, sometimes she thinks she knows it better than her own. It's just not fair. They're supposed to be still in their awkward years, covered in pimples and baby fat. But Ali's sleek like a cat, her complexion clearer than a dermatologist's fantasy. Even if she had a zit, it would probably be on her forehead or something, not in the awkward places the other girls get them. 

Emily squeezes her eyes tightly. When she opens them, Ali's standing over her, smiling. Her real smile, not the mischievous look she gets when she's about to spill a secret. 

"You know you're my favorite, right, Em?" 

Emily turns her head to see if anyone else is awake. Hanna's snoring softly, and Spencer's twitching in her sleep-- probably dreaming about an exam. Aria lies still, her chest gently rising and falling. She could be asleep. She could also be faking. Just in case she is, Emily says, "I thought you didn't pick favorites."

Ali gets down on her knees and squeezes Emily's hand. "Well, I didn't want them to get jealous."

And before Emily can come up with a retort, Ali's kissing her, her mouth tasting of the edible lip gloss she was wearing earlier. When they pull apart, panting, Ali's lying next to her, one leg wrapped around Emily's. 

Ali's fingers land on Emily's stomach, trailing down until Emily realizes where they're going, and grabs Alison by the wrist. "No!"

Alison's lip curls. "No?" She straddles Emily's body, hands on either side of Emily's head, hair brushing against Emily's face as she leans over her. "Don't tell me you don't want this."

"Just… not with the others right there," Emily says weakly. 

Spencer snorts loudly in her sleep, and Alison laughs. "They won't wake up, if that's what you're afraid of. It'll just be our little secret." Abruptly, her crotch presses against Emily's, and Emily swallows hard, a mixture of anxiety and arousal swirling in the pit of her stomach. As if she can read Emily's mind, Alison laughs again. "You like that, hmm?" She rolls her hips, and even though they're both wearing pajama pants, Emily shudders. 

One of Alison's hands lands on Emily's breast, and Emily bites her lip, hard, as Ali finds her nipple underneath her tank top. "Puberty's been good to you," Ali says lightly, thumb going in circles around it. "Not as good as it's been to Hanna, maybe, but at least you didn't get those extra rolls of fat."

She doesn't want to be with Alison when she's like this. Emily tries to push her off, but Alison holds her ground, her hips grinding against Emily until finally she stops resisting. 

Emily's nails dig into Ali's shoulders as her hips shift underneath her. Ali's face is caught somewhere between concentration and triumph. Emily's always know Alison got off on other people's desire for her-- she just didn't realize how literal that could be. 

As Ali continues to grind against her, Emily starts to wish there wasn't all this clothing in between them. She's wearing gym shorts and Ali's wearing striped pajama pants, and separately they aren't very thick but together, it's starting to feel like a nuisance. Alison's panting now, and Emily's hands wander down to touch Ali's breasts, tentatively at first, then, when Ali smirks at her, squeezing hard, hoping it makes her uncomfortable. 

Alison's head tips back, and her eyes flutter shut, and for a moment she's almost unbearably beautiful. Emily's never had an orgasm, but she's starting to think she might be close. 

And then Ali stops, suddenly, whispers, "Gotcha!" and rolls off of her. 

Emily squeezes her eyes shut, forcing back the tears.

Several hours later, she's not sure if it really happened at all.


End file.
